


I Am Not Robin Hood

by Avalonmedieval



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Romance, something different
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 23:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4498485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avalonmedieval/pseuds/Avalonmedieval
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>Oliver is attracted to Felicity’s cousin; a Southern girl infatuated with the legend of Robin Hood and detests billionaire playboys....<b></b></b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Savannah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My story takes place some months after Oliver’s return to civilization. I alter things slightly with Thea running the nightclub, Tommy is dating Laurel, and Oliver has accepted a role at Queen Consolidated, promoting Felicity as his secretary; his mother still serves as CEO while Walter is missing. Felicity has yet to cast her affections upon Oliver. Oliver is still killing and is not yet fighting street crime.
> 
> I do not have an English Degree, so yeah you will find mistakes in my writing.

 

 

 

Arrow had to hurry. He needed Felicity to hack the memory stick he had just killed for. Flash drive safely in his pocket, he fired an arrow, casting a line into her upstairs balcony. Still dressed in green, it was better this way. The last thing Felicity needed was her neighbors gaining wind that she was aiding the Vigilante.

Felicity's neighborhood was asleep; not a sound, except for the lull of crickets summoning the rain that had yet to fall. The moon was half-full, but only a half of the half shed light on the land below, covered by a thin veil of dark clouds. Eyes closed, the sultry night wind whipping against his face, the hooded crusader allowed himself a moment of respite. For just a brief second, Shado, Sarah, Slate, all of the painful memories faded, and he was just a man relishing the warmth of tranquility.

BUMP - his feet smacked the balcony flooring and his sedately mental realm suddenly shattered; he was once again Oliver Queen playing the Arrow, a young man bent on vengeance, killing in hopes of mending his wounded soul.

As he stepped forward into the midnight darkness, his predatory instincts arousing, he knew he was not alone, and whoever that person was, was not Felicity. Blessed with rare agility and quicker than his attacker, he captured the lamp mid-swing, right before it crashed into the back of his head, and slung it into the wall, shattering it. With the grace of a panther, he seized his assailant, spinning him with his back to him and crippling him into a choke-hold. Soft and petite, long silky hair, a hint of vanilla - he was a she, and from the satin nightgown blushing his body, she was not a hit-woman.

Instinctively, he released his grip from around her neck and clamped his palm over her mouth, cutting off her cry for help before releasing it. Holding her to his body, he cocked an ear, straining to hear if their struggle had woken any of the neighbors. Still, only the melody of crickets and the soothing allure of wind flowing through leaves and branches.

Felicity resided alone. Her family lived on the other side of the country and the few friends the computer guru had was Oliver’s friends too, but still this woman was in Felicity’s house, half-dressed, obviously about to retire to bed, so she was indeed acquainted with Felicity.

The woman in his arms came alive, kicking, squirming to free herself from his grip, and in the process, blushing her firm rear against his manhood. Had he been a lesser man, without control over his emotions, he would have harden, but he had mastered domination over his body functions, feelings, and even pain, years ago. Still though, he a was man and the feel of her curvaceous body against his did not go unnoticed.

Not wanting to harm her, only to frighten her into submission, he slid the hand he had wrapped around her chest and up between her breasts, in which he could not help but note they were remarkable firm and of medium size, to clasp her throat. When she still did not submit, he applied pressure. Still writhing, she tried raking her fingernails into his arms, but his durable suit prevented her nails from inflicting wounds.

He smirked. _She was a fighter. He liked that._ She was short. The top of her head barely reached his chest, and she was not overly strong. She did not have a chance in the world against him. He knew it and she had to know it, but despite reality, she fought like a little she-cat. He could have contained her all night if he wanted to as the battle between them did not aggravate him, like most situations did, instead it darkly amused him. He knew he should scold himself for such primitive, if not chauvinist, desires, but he would not. That darkness was a part of him. It was what had made him who he was today.

_Alas, the mischievous entertainment must end._ He lowered his face to her neck, his lips only an inch from her silky flesh, and whispered, “stop fighting me and I will release you.” He felt her stiffen and knew she was trying to read the tone of his voice. His warm breath had milked chill bumps to flourish upon her skin. A second later, she slammed the back of foot into his shin. Of course Arrow, the built of a Greek God, did not flinch, instead, he chuckled slyly causing her to flay at his body viciously.

Hearing footsteps approaching rapidly and lightweight from within, knowing they belonged to Felicity, he tightened his grip once more and hissed, “shh” with a tone oozing of seduction.

  
Savannah, mistaken his amoral game for intended rape, began to whimper, trying to warn Felicity.

A light popped on and the sliding door opened as Felicity emerged with her arms wide, suggesting they stop. “Don't hurt her! She is a friend! Actually, a cousin.”

A man of little words, Arrow nodded, but kept his clasp over the young woman’s mouth, giving Felicity time to square things away with her relative.

“Savannah, he is a friend. Don't scream! Screaming will wake my neighbors, and I signed a homeowner's agreement when moving in, and I am sure being woken in the middle of the night by my screaming cousin will violate those terms. And I dont want to have to move into an apartment. Apartments are small, the walls thin….”

“Felicity!”

Savannah caught the scolding tone in her captor’s voice. He was familiar with her cousin’s rambling. She froze, ceasing her attempts to free herself from his entrapment. When he removed his hand, she cautiously stepped away and turned to face him.

He watched the college-age, small-boned woman drink the sight of him, her eyes trailing up and down his masculine body, taunt in tight leather, to his veiled face. Peering into her sultry eyes, he had expected to read fear or maybe even repulse, but instead, he found intrigue; pleasing curiosity.

“I just dropped by to give Felicity something,” he said, fighting the inner urge to admire her beauty. She looked just as scrumptious as her body had felt against his with long, unruly dark hair, cat-shaped eyes, the color of warm brandy, and skin overly tanned, resembling the tone of creamy coffee.

Savannah glared at the hooded man through defiant eyes, and when his gaze fell to her exposed cleavage through her now torn gown, she spat, “There is a thing called a door!”

Arrow crossed his arms, admiring the sway of her shapely hips as she marched into the Felicity's townhouse.  

“Sorry, she just showed up at my doorsteps tonight without notice, or I would have warned you.”

Hurt, hearing the echo of Felicity's words, Savannah shut the bedroom door that she was staying in and closed her eyes, the hooded man the least of her worries. _She was an unwanted burden wherever she went._

“I did not know you had family other than your mother and estranged father.”

“I do. I just don't talk about them because I am rarely in contact.”

“I need to know what’s on this. It’s encrypted,” Arrow announced, pulling the memory stick from his pocket.

Felicity beamed a self-assured smile before collecting the USB from his hand. “No problem. Give me five minutes.”

Arrow returned the smile. He had confidence in his friend. She was one of the few people whose loyalty he trusted. “No rush. I will drop by tomorrow and pick it up. I have plans with Tommy tonight.”

 


	2. Who am I?

 

The next day, as late evening approached, Savannah did not flinch when she heard the arrow impale its target. She was expecting the intriguing hooded marksman.

 

Arrow found her sitting cross-legged in an outdoor chair, but this time, no alluring nightgown; instead boy cut boxers and a white tee. Her hair was unbound and unruly, and again, no makeup, but still, he found her appealing.

 

“Felicity is not here. She ran to pick up Chinese.”

 

“I just need something from her study.”

 

Savannah glanced toward the door. “I am sure you know the way.”

 

Without a word and with feline-like grace, he went in search of the memory stick. A few minutes later, he returned, hacked memory stick in his pocket.

 

“I did not mean to frighten you last night.”

 

“You didn't,” she snapped defiantly.

 

 _Somehow she did not seem as hostile with him as she pretended to be._ He smiled, and while she could not see his eyes, she could see his smile and he was mocking her.

 

“Do you want anything else?”

 

“I have all I need,” he replied with double meaning; a meaning she understood. He took a step, stopped, and turned. “Your accent is southern; too strong for Nevada.”

 

The wind suddenly released a crisp gust causing Savannah to shove a captured strand of hair behind her ear. “That is because I am not from Nevada, and neither is Felicity, well originally. It seems you do not know her as well as you thought.”

 

“Enlighten me.”

 

“That is not my place.”

 

“At least tell me if I am correct on the accent. Georgia, thus the name Savannah?” For some an odd reason, Oliver had always bore a fondness for the South. As a child, he had enjoyed watching old southern movies, like Gone with the Wind, with his father.

 

She shook her head, the act freeing the unruly lock. “Alabama.”

 

“That explains it.”

 

“Explains what?”

 

“Why you do not pry as to why I wear a hood.”

 

“You think Alabamians are used to weirdos?”

 

Arrow chuckled, something he rarely did. “I know Felicity did not tell you who I am.”

 

“You would be right if I had asked, but I didn't because I do not care.” She stood. She was not wearing a bra and the cool night breeze had drew her nipples erect. Unable to resist, his gaze fell once more to her chest. The urge to suckle them nagged in the back of his mind.

 

As she stormed away, she hissed, “and it is not Alabama that is full of loons, but the city; this city!”

 

Arrow darted down, slicing the crisp night breeze. She did not fear him, not from ignorance, but from innocence. He wondered if she had ever been fucked. Had he met her five years ago, he would have gladly obliged her and enjoyed every second of it. He frowned. He was no longer that person and such indulgences no longer satisfied him. Simple pleasures were now unknown to him. He needed more because he had become more. His lust was now for blood.


	3. City Girl

“Aren't you going to ask who he is?”

“No, Felicity, you have your life here, and I did not enter it to intrude.”

 ****  


And that had been all that had been said about the mysterious masked man. Savannah had been replaying the conversation in her head when Felicity burst in, grinning ear to ear, obviously excited. She unzipped a garment bag, unveiling an overly short black dress. “It is for Oliver's party!”

“Party?”

“Yes, remember you said you would attend with me since I don't have a date? Well, you really won't be my date, more like my cousin on a date. Wow, that really did sound Alabamian.” She giggled before continuing, “The invite said plus one, and I am tired of always going alone.....”

“You said a business function, not a party.” Savannah narrowed her eyes suspiciously. She hated social get-togethers. “Wait a minute, is that dress for me?” she squealed.

“Yes, I know it is short, but this is city fashion. You can't wear jeans and a tee. And look, heels!”

Savannah accepted the dress, unenthused, but neglected the long, pointy heels. “I will wear the dress, but not the heels. My momma always said only hussies wear heels.”

“Savannah, I wear heels everyday and I am not a hussie...whatever that means. You are not in Alabama anymore!”

“You know the saying, you can take the girl out of the country, but not the country out of the girl. No to the heels. My upbringing is still a part of me even if you have elected to forget yours.”

“I did not have your rearing. My mother was a cocktail waitress in Vegas.”

“At least you still have a mom!”

“And you still have a father!” Felicity bit her lip, immediately regretting her words, witnessing the pain they had invoked in her cousin's’ reflection.

“No, I do not have a father; a father cares and protects his daughter. He doesn't push her away. He doesn't force her to make decisions that will ruin her life!”

“College will not ruin your life!”

  
“You dont get it, Felicity! You never have! All you think of is yourself, and that is why you moved to the big city and forgot where you came from!”


	4. Oliver

An hour later, Savannah sat on a ledge 50 stories up, knees curled to her chest, eyes hollow, mesmerized by the moon. Tonight the sky was cloudless and the moon was at full bloom, but its enchanting mist had been drowned by the city’s lights, and it saddened Savannah. She cocked an ear, thinking she had heard the wail of owl, but was not sure. She could not hear anything over the sound of yuppie music and the roar of a hundred mouths all talking at once. _What had she been thinking to ever come to such a place? She did not belong here, and apparently, she no longer belonged on the ranch she had grew up on anymore either._

 

When the music grew louder for a brief second, she knew someone had opened the door, only to close it. Another second later, a tall man, donning an elegant suit, strolled toward the ledge, a champagne glass in hand. She knew he had not seen her in the corner, and not wanting to startle him, she called out, “Hello.”

 

The man turned, spotted her, and headed in her direction. “Hi.”

 

“I did not mean to intrude. I just didn't want you to be startled when you turned around and found me.”

 

He smiled, revealing a roll of straight pearly whites. “Thank you for your consideration. You must be Savannah, Felicity's cousin.”

 

Slightly taken aback, she asked in a confused tone, “How did you know that?”

 

“Not too many in Starling City with a southern accent. I work with Felicity and she told me her cousin from Alabama was visiting.”

 

“Oh…” she blushed. _It seemed everywhere she went up north people found her Dixie accent amusing._

 

“Are you hiding from someone?” the stranger inquired, his tone mischievous.

 

“No.” She shook her head. “More like trying to escape.”

 

“You do not like parties?”

 

“I don't, but I am not really trying to escape the party, maybe the city, but even way up here, the traffic is overbearing and the lights blinding.”

 

“I take it you prefer the great outdoors?”

 

 _Was he teasing her? She wasn't sure. These people were different from the humble folk she was used to_. “I do. There is nothing more soothing than the song of the birds and the flow of the river, and nothing more beautiful than the greenery of the mountains and all the life they bear.”

 

 _He had probably never even spent a night outside the city_ , she thought, eyeing his expensive suit; a frivolity in her opinion. The money he had spent on that suit could have fed a homeless shelter for a month or more. _And what was up with his rigid posture?_ She wondered if he was as uncomfortable as he looked.

 

He saw her trying to read him. When most women did that, they saw his financial value first, and that spiraled their minds into a fantasy with him; a fantasy beneath him, legs spread and sobbing with bliss. But Savannah’s reflection did not portray even a hint of lechery. Instead, she glared upon him with disdain, and maybe even pity if Oliver was reading her correctly.

 

Taking a seat beside her, an act astonishing her, thinking him pretentious, he cooed, “Tell me more about your beloved south. Your words enchant me and few enchant me.”

 

Now that he was so close, she could see he was muscular through the bounds of the suit, his face quite handsome, but there was something about his eyes. They seemed as if they were veiling something dark. That should have invoked fear, but on the contrary, she found it exciting.

 

Her voice meek, “Well, I lived in northern Alabama, close to Lookout Mountain, and from a very small town where everyone knows everyone and their business.”

 

“I noticed you said lived. Do you plan to call Starling home now?”

 

She sucked in her lip before answering, her mind whirling. “I do not plan to go back there, but nor do I plan to remain here.”

 

“I sense you love your homeland, why would you not go back to where your heart is?” _Loving one’s city was something he could easily relate to. Abandoning it was not._

 

“It is a long story.”

 

“I have all night,” he replied smoothly.

 

 _Wow, city dwellers are open!_ Her mind echoed _._ Thankfully a shapely intoxicated woman stumbled out the door, interrupting their intimate conversation.

 

The man, who had yet introduced himself, pounced to his feet, saving the woman from an embarrassing tumble. She reflected her thanks by wrapping her arms around his neck and shoving her rotund breasts into his chest. “Oh….Ollie...You are my hero!”

 

A man she had met upon entering the party, named Diggle, drew to the rescue by escorting the woman back inside. Savannah watched him glint in the man’s direction. There was something between them and it was more than business.  

 

After they went back inside, he turned back to her and said, “As I said, I have all night.”

 

Savannah folded her arms. “Ollie? You want to hear my story, yet I do not even know your name.”

 

“My name is Oliver.”

 

“Oliver….Oliver Queen - my sister’s billionaire boss?”

 

“Yes.” Instead of girly infatuation, he met open hostility. Before he could inquire further, a group of young women rushed out the door beseeching him for a dance. Trying to quell them, he spotted Savannah out of the corner of his eye heading toward the door. “Ladies, I do not dance.”

 

The bleached blonde shot back in a sloppy, drunken voice, “You used to dance with me...you used to do a lot with me…”

 

With the aid of Diggle, he shoved by the sleazy women and headed after Savannah. Cornering her at the elevator, he asked, “Are you leaving?”

 

“Yes. I am not much of night owl and I have had all of the partying I can take for one night.”

 

“Let me escort you home.” In the light, he noticed she did not wear makeup, nor did she need it. Her skin was flawless, lips dark as blood, and eyelashes long and sooty. Her clean face was refreshing, compared to a party of women who looked like they should be working Broadway.

 

 _What was wrong with this man? He was a notorious playboy. He could have any woman on the floor tonight, but he elected to stalk a country bumpkin instead._ And then it hit her. It sliced into her heart like a rigid blade. He might have been a playboy, but it was not a playgirl he wanted. He desired something new, something unused. And once he had her, he’d be gone as soon as the sun dawned to tell all his friends about the simple rural chick he had seduced.

 

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Queen. Thank you for inviting my sister to your party. Now you should return to it. I do not want you to leave your guests to drive me home.”

 

“I want to,” he stated flatly.

 

But before she could react to the man, who was used to always getting his way, his gleeful groupies had found him again, allowing her the escape she desired. When Oliver turned, Savannah had gone.


	5. Disappointment

“You told me you were from Vegas.”

 

Felicity turned to Oliver, watching he down a shot of vodka. He was angry, but not about her dubious origins.

 

“I was born in Alabama. When my father split, my mother moved us to Vegas when I was eight. She could not go back to ranching. She wanted more. I grew up in Vegas, so I am technically from Vegas,” she answered in her usually witty manner. 

 

“So you have not seen Savannah since she was a child?”

 

“Just on Christmases. Why the sudden curiosity regarding my childhood?”

 

Oliver gulped another shot before replying. “I just thought I knew you  - that’s all.”

 

“Like I know you?” Gone was the humor, now suddenly serious. 

 

“My time on the island is not for you to know. It is private, Felicity.”

 

“And so is my family, Oliver! I left them behind for a reason.”

 

“Why would you want to leave Savannah behind? She seems like a nice girl.”

 

This time Felicity downed a shot. “Because that is the life I left behind. I am someone else now. I can't be the person I am now with those ties binding me to my old life. You of all people should understand that.”

 

Oliver glanced down, disappointment in Felicity reflecting. She saw it and it pained her. “Oliver, I don't mean to sound cruel, really! I love Savannah. I love my family. Please understand there are things about me that you are just going to have to accept, like I have accepted yours.”

 

Oliver turned and walked away. _Despite all that he had been through and the man he had become, he would never abandon his family._


	6. Strangers in the Night

Savannah turned and headed down the alley, finding it quieter than the busy street side. Her inner turmoil playing heavily on her mind, she did not even realize the eeriness of the dark, too silent alley, until it was too late. She suddenly whirled around, a scream upon her lips, and then froze.

 

“Are you stalking me?”

 

“More like protecting you,” Arrow shot back.

 

“I don't need your protecting,” she said, continuing her pace toward Felicity's neighborhood.

 

“I think you do. Starling City is dangerous. You are not in Alabama anymore.”

 

She grimaced. “I do not need reminding.”

 

“Tell me, did no gentleman from Queen’s party offer you a ride home?”

 

“No one who could protect me. If attacked, it would be me protecting him.”

 

 _The insult hurt._ Arrow snapped back, “You are barely five-foot. I could break you in half with my bare hands if I wanted to. You need to come back down from wherever your head is.”

 

“I have nothing to fear from you. I know who you are now.”

 

He smirked, knowing Felicity would never betray him. “Who am I?”

 

“You are a vigilante bent on protecting this city. You only harm criminals. I am not a criminal, so I have nothing to fear. I googled you. There are lots of blogs about you.”

 

“I do not fight crime. I do not protect this city. Those bloggers are making up stories to con readers.”

 

She stopped and faced him. “Who or what do you fight for then?”

 

“I am correcting an injustice on behalf of someone who was beloved to me.”

 

“Oh, and I thought you to be a Robin Hood.”

 

“I am no Robin Hood.”

 

“Too bad; I like Robin Hood. In fact, I am infatuated with him and King Arthur, and all the heroes of old, who fought for something other than selfish ambition.”

 

“I was right. You live in a fantasy.”

 

“And people like me cannot survive this world. I have heard it all before.”

 

“Savannah, I never said that….”

 

Arrow suddenly cast his attention behind her. He withdrew an arrow and aimed at a dumpster. “Come out!” he demanded in a supreme voice.

 

A tall, lanky man in a black hoodie edged out with his hands held in the air. He was terrified. Arrow was every criminal's worst nightmare.

 

“You seem very much like a Robin Hood to me.” Savannah smirked and continued, leaving the vigilante to serve justice.

 

Arrow reprehended the burglar and was heading home with sexual desires for Savannah warming his insides. She was perfect in every way. Pure, not devious. And her body... _oh, her curvaceous body_. He could just imagine her pinned beneath his hard driving hips, crying out blissfully. He could feel himself inside her, deep and hot. She’d be a tight fuck. She might not be a virgin, but she was far from being over-fucked.

 

He staggered, realizing just how intoxicated he was. He smiled. He had not been drunk in years. It felt good, but what would feel even better was the dark-haired beauty gnawing at his cock right now. And then the thought nailed him; Savannah might not want the playboy, Oliver, but she desired the vigilante. She had compared him to Robin Hood and then admitted to being enthralled with like heroes.

 

Ten minutes later, he landed on Felicity’s balcony to find Savannah indulging a glass of wine and in nothing but a robe, her freshly washed hair still wet. She finished the glass, stood, and met the naughty glimmer in his eyes.

 

“I thought you were not a Robin Hood. Tonight you played his role well.”

 

Arrow dropped his bow to the floor and rushed her. “Is that what you want?”

 

Looming, only inches from her, she could smell the alcohol oozing off of him. “Robin Hood was a man who took what he wanted,” she beamed, eyes twinkling mischievously.

 

He seized her, wrenching her body up and pinned her against the wall. “Is that what you want, a man that takes what he wants?”

 

Wrapping her arms around him, she cooed lustfully, “Yes.” _This was exactly what she wanted and how she wanted it._

 

With one hand holding her up, he used his spare to tear her robe open. “What I want is to fuck you!” Burying his mouth into her breasts, nipping, kissing, he freed his cock, leaving the rest of his clothes on. Finding her wet and ready, he impaled himself deep into her belly with one almost brutal thrust causing her to cry out; a cry he smothered with his mouth.

 

Her intimate tunnel was just as diminutive as he thought she would be, clamping down on his engorged manhood, strangling him, threatening to coax him before he had time to enjoy her. Digging his fingers into her flesh, pinning her between him and the wall, entrapping her like prey, he reared back only to ram back into her again and again, relentlessly and domineering. He needed this. He needed this release. He needed this woman to be the one to conjure it. She had been on his mind since the night he had held her body against his. She had lit a fire in him that he had not felt in years.

 

Savannah closed her eyes and arched her hips, accepting his near rabid lust. She did not mind. She had not expected him to be gentle. Arrow was rough and so was his touch. She was completely naked and helpless, spread wide and being fucked hard in the open night by a man she did not know; a stranger - a dangerous stranger. It was wrong. It was devious, and for once in her boring life, she wanted to be deviant. She wanted this dark man and the sinful night he offered. She needed the adventure, the excitement. For once, she was truly doing what she wanted, not what she had been told to do.

 

Diving head first into her dark fantasy coming true, she closed her eyes and wailed, not even trying to shield her sexual bliss from the neighbors as her orgasm escalated.

 

Enchanted and influenced by her climax, he moaned through gritted teeth, “Fuck!” He had only been fucking her for a few minutes and already was trembling with need to erupt. He had screwed a few club girls since his return home, and while he had climaxed, none had truly sated him, until now. Three hard strides later, he buried himself deep inside her core, filling her with his creamy male nectar.

 

Groaning, he knew better than ejaculate inside her, but he had been caught in the moment, and not even an army could have pulled him from her. It was too late to worry about it now.

 

Still deep-rooted, he began to grind against her. Stuffed with his hot sap, and with the stimulation of her trigger spot, she bucked against him a few times before succumbing to a second climax. Whimpering and whining, she tossed her head back and forth, wishing she had a name to cry out as she squirted against his still stiff cock.

 

Sloppily, he kissed her, taking time to chew her lips and suckle her tongue until her orgasm dwindled, and his cock finally flagged. Their exhilaration was slowly diminishing, and with that demise birthed emotions that usually followed such reckless, impulsive acts.

 

He withdrew and placed her back on the ground. She was a complete wreck; her hair tangled, lips swollen, utterly nude, and dripping with sexual fluids, and already her delicate flesh was revealing his careless marks.

 

She glanced up into his hard eyes just now noticing he had not even bother to undress.  
Shame-washed, she tore her gaze from him, unable to speak. She had not thought she would regret her foolhardy actions so soon, but she had been wrong. She was in a strange city and had practically invited this stranger to cum inside her. She’d be lucky if she was not now pregnant, and blessed if not with HIV or some other filthy sexual disease.

 

Arrow knew what she was thinking. He could not say the same. He did not regret his time with her. She had been everything he had perceived she would be. Not wanting to draw tears, he simply shot out of sight, abandoning her to her sorrow. He could not and would not submit to taking her into his arms. To do so would lead to something more, like intimate emotions and attachment, and that was the last thing he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many are following this story? I am trying to decide to end this here or continue writing.

**Author's Note:**

> [](https://imgbb.com/)


End file.
